Evening at Gojo's House,
Evening settled over Tokyo, and Gojo Satoru was lying sprawled on the couch, lazily flipping through a news broadcast. About yesterday's blast.
He yawned, utterly bored.
It was a classic smokescreen from the authorities to conceal the existence of the spells and demon-infested world, designed to deceive ordinary people as thoroughly as possible.
But the scope of the recent incident was too large.
The internet was flooded with videos and images from the amusement park: sudden monster falling from the sky—demons, ghouls, and other supernatural occurrences.
The official side couldn't erase all of it, and some complete footage of the chaos had already circulated on the dark web.
"Ugh… let's just finish this quickly," Gojo muttered, rolling over like a salted fish.
"I need my peaceful routine," he added, more to himself than anyone else.
His self-proclaimed "salted fish" lifestyle—lazy, carefree, and completely unbothered—was something he valued deeply. He did not wish to have it disturbed.
At that moment, the door creaked open—
Benio Adashino entered, clearly exhausted.
She shuffled in, carrying a container of yellow powder and swapping her shoes for indoor slippers.
"Heading into the field again?" Gojo asked softly, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah… the powder detected a concentration of filth, so I went," Benio replied, pouring herself a glass of water from the dispenser.
Her petite frame trembled slightly, the result of overexertion and pure fatigue.
"I see…" Gojo said helplessly.
He wanted to tell her to stop pushing herself so hard, but he understood why she was so driven.
Both of her parents had been killed by filth, and her brother… well, he was lost under suspicious circumstances.
Benio's quest for revenge required her to grow stronger, to find the filth and punish them.
Gojo could easily track down Kamui himself and help her, but if he did, Benio's motivation would vanish. He would never force her thoughts or actions.
Every person must walk their own path.
.....
Benio took a sip of water, settling down in the living room. The yellow powder, also exhausted from fieldwork, curled up quietly, visibly worn out.
Gojo shifted from his "salted fish" lying position to a seated posture. Silently, he extended his right hand and placed it on Benio's shoulder.
Reverse Cursed Technique—
A warm current surged into her body.
Fatigue, dull headaches, and depleted spell power melted away, instantly restoring her energy.
"Gojo-sensei… this is…" Benio whispered, eyes wide as she felt the change coursing through her body.
"It's nothing. Just a little teacherly consideration," Gojo said, smirking faintly. "Alright, Benio."
Satisfied, he returned to his sprawled, lazy position on the couch.
Benio pursed her lips, a blush rising faintly to her cheeks.
Though she tried to play it cool, she felt touched.
After all, in addition to her mother-in-law's care, this small act of warmth was deeply comforting.
Her green eyes drifted to the night outside the balcony.
"I wonder how my mother-in-law is…"
Since arriving in Tokyo, Benio had stayed at Gojo's home and never visited the place, where her mother-in-law resided. She had heard that several Onmyoji worked there, but had no time to visit recently.
.....
The weekend passed quietly—
The last two days had been calm; no major incidents occurred.
Gojo's lazy, peaceful routine had returned.
Today, he rode his small electric scooter to Sobu High School.
Teleportation was possible, of course, but for reasons only he understood, he preferred riding the little scooter or his Kawasaki.
As he approached the school gate, a crowd of students had gathered, forming a wide circle. Gojo stopped, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
He tapped the shoulder of a student at the edge of the crowd.
"What's going on here?"
"I… don't know. They're surrounding me, so I just followed," the student said nervously.
Gojo rolled his eyes, exasperated, and walked push through the crowd.
"Move aside! City Management Patrol coming through!" he shouted.
The students scattered instinctively, clearing a path.
At the center of the circle stood several men in nothing but tattered pants — One of them squatted, clearly disoriented.
Gojo leaned forward, poking him with his truncheon.
"Hey, hey! The City Management Patrol is here. Let's go."
The man blinked, dazed. As his gaze lifted, he froze.
"Ghost!" he screamed, his voice cracking in fear.
"Call me handsome," Gojo corrected with a deadpan expression.
The man's eyes darted around, noticing the bright lights and the flashes of movement surrounding him.
His gaze fell, revealing the cold, authoritative presence of two extremely strong men standing nearby, still watching over the crowd.
"Where… am I?" he muttered weakly, covering his head in confusion.
It slowly dawned on him: yesterday, these two had carried him somewhere safely, ignoring his protests. But somehow… now, he was standing in just his pants.
"Alright enough of this, I'm a police officer. Please come with me without any resistance" Gojo said, expressionless.
He produced a document, flashing it briefly before withdrawing it.
Then he retrieved a silver handcuff from his waist, securing the man quickly.
"Aren't you a teacher?" the man asked nervously, his lips twitching.
"Part-time. What else?" Gojo replied, utterly reasonable, his tone dry.
Around him, the students murmured, astonished by Gojo's effortless authority.
Even the previously disruptive crowd fell silent, instinctively respecting—or fearing—the tall white-haired figure before them.
Gojo, ever the "salted fish teacher," stretched lazily, one hand brushing back his hair as he surveyed the subdued scene.
"Ah…life's finally peaceful again," he thought, a small, satisfied smirk on his face.
But somewhere deep inside, he knew the calm was only temporary.
In a world where demons, Void Realm kings, and chaotic magic lurked just beneath the surface, peace was always fleeting.
...
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